"you know the good ole days weren't always good..."

what do you get when you put together 900 over-qualified, over-achieving, high-strung, high-performing harvard business school students competing for the same 12 summer jobs?

technically: hell week.

but i prefer to call it: fuck-you-week.

imagine throwing one 10-ounce steak into a shark tank just to, oh i don't know, see what happens.

the thing about going back to graduate school is that as soon as you're out of the professional lion's den, there is this insane competition to get back in. and for those of us who are using graduate school -- multiple ones, mind you -- to escape that (un)reality, the pressure is consuming but the motivation is ... on sabbatical.

and honestly, i didn't like fighting the lion beforehand (which was more like a cute little nonprofit lion kitty cat), and i don't imagine liking it any better now. particularly because i'm in the ring with 899 highly-trained lion-tamers with masters degrees in petting large animals. and despite my best efforts, lions do not seem to respond to cleavage or offers for oral sex.

this week is harvard business school hell week. and by hell week, they mean no classes, an occasional interview, and being courted with lavish meals by some of the highest paying companies in america. (well, everyone else is being courted. i'm just home in my kitchen baking every type of dessert i've ever learned to make.)

clearly, the hell week misnomer indicates that they've never been in the fiery pit. because if they had, they'd know that there are no manicures in hell.

i have become well-versed in post-interview rejection: it's not to be taken personally (which is exactly how i take it) and it is not meant to induce self-deprecation (i have't left my apartment in three days and have never hated myself more). rather, not being offered a second-round interview is a polite way of saying "you were much better on paper." and although it's not supposed to be a personality contest, what it boils down to is that it is. and apparently, my personality sucks.

but i think a lot of the personalities around here suck too. unfortunately, i'm not interviewing them for jobs.

for those of us under-qualified for any of these awe-inspiring jobs, we have no other choice but to acknowledge the fact that our jobs will fall into place lie. because salary, benefits, and actual responsibilities are secondary to the privilege of bragging that one "has five job offers."

and so, when i return to classes next week, i look forward to telling my peers about the handful of offers i have lined up:

1. financial management at a large food distributor (read: cashier at wendys).
2. advertising for a home retailer (read: holding the sign at the street corner for a furniture going out of business sale).
3. officer of post-consumer products in the restaurant industry (read: after-dinner table crumb-scraper at a restaurant).
4. fundraiser for a small nonprofit (read: begging at the corner of memorial drive and river street).
5. personal shopper (read: ... for myself. on fafsa loans.).

and if position title and number of employment offers is really the only thing i'll be asked about, then i'm completely content doing what i do best: smiling, nodding, and fucking pretending to fit in.